


Red Envelopes and Lopsided Keychains

by friendlyneighborhoodsecretary



Series: I'm Never Prompt with Prompts [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Figuring Out the Whole Found Family Thing, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, May and Tony Can and Should Be Friends, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Worrying About Peter Parker is a Great Unifier, platonic co-parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21829489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendlyneighborhoodsecretary/pseuds/friendlyneighborhoodsecretary
Summary: Buying for a billionaire is never easy, but May Parker isn't daunted by much of anything these days.
Relationships: May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: I'm Never Prompt with Prompts [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558726
Comments: 18
Kudos: 182





	Red Envelopes and Lopsided Keychains

**Author's Note:**

> From the prompt: "First Gifts."

“Wasn’t sure what to get you,” Tony says as he slides a peppermint-red envelope down the couch cushions to May, nursing the mug of cocoa Peter has just delivered all the while. “So I just went with a classic. Thought it might come in handy with the way the kid goes through backpacks.”

May snorts into her own mug at that, although the sound is lost under the rip and rustle of Peter and the others unwrapping their own gifts from their own spots along the semi-circle they’ve all formed around the penthouse’s Christmas tree. He’s not wrong. Peter loses not only backpacks, but the things that happen to be in them (“May, do we have any extra pencils?” “May, my gym shorts are gone again.” “May—“) when they vanish into the back alleys of Queens at an alarming rate. Not to the extent that she actually _needs_ the financial boost she suspects is nestled in that envelope, but…it wouldn’t exactly hurt Peter’s MIT fund, either. She doesn’t need it and she doesn’t particularly want it given the independent streak that’s kept her and Peter afloat thus far, but she has the feeling it would be equal parts pointless and hurtful to turn him down flat. Pointless because Tony Stark always finds a way and hurtful because May doesn’t miss the way he watches her reaction, all artfully-feigned nonchalance and veiled observance—he’s doing the best he can, she suspects, even if throwing money at someone to further their friendship isn’t exactly the kind of gesture May usually finds trustworthy.

“Thank you, Tony.” She makes a point of being sincere when she tucks the envelope under the coaster she sets her cocoa on. “You really didn’t have to—”

“Ah, ah, ah—Christmas parties come with Christmas gifts, it’s a thing. Can’t go around ignoring tradition.” He relaxes a little when she takes it, the faint twinkle in his eyes brightening as his attention drifts around the circle to land on Rhodey and Happy bickering idly over the choice of background music, on Pepper rolling her eyes fondly at the both of them from her spot on Tony’s other side, on Peter where he shuffles back and forth between them and the tree to pass out the remaining. The lines around his eyes go soft and pleased, and May finds it a little easier to see the man she hears about from Peter as opposed to the man she reads about in the news. She relaxes a little, too. That glimpse solidifies her own choice of gifts as the right one.

“True enough—and speaking of gifts…”

Tony’s attention snaps back to her, his mouth already opening in what she suspects is a bit of friendly snark about having already bought everything on his own Christmas list, but she holds up a finger for silence and counters with her own, “Ah, ah, ah—what were we just saying about tradition?”

“Touché,” Tony concedes with an incline of the head and sweeps out a hand in an only slightly grandiose gesture to proceed. May fishes in the pocket of her cardigan until she comes up with the gift in question and slides it down the cushions just as Tony had done with his. It looks small and silly here—a single key hooked to a cheap Spider-Man keychain, garnished with a wilted bow for the sake of the season—but she stands by it. She’d been wracking her brain for suitable presents ever since Peter had passed on the invitation to the private Stark dinner, and this was the only idea that had stuck. The only one that had felt right.

The seconds stretch as Tony stares at it, a faint crinkle appearing between his brows as he processes what it means. May nudges it another inch down the couch and sits back.

“Just so you know, it’s _really_ hard to buy for a billionaire,” she says, settling into the explanation she’s been mulling over since the idea occurred to her. “But this seemed appropriate. I know Peter has all the passcodes and ID badges and voice-whatevers for your place—”

For multiple places, really. The Avengers compound and this penthouse have both gradually become like second homes to Peter, given the amount of time he spends there. May’s watched it happen over the past year, has seen hints of it in the textbooks casually left behind in Tony’s lab, in the unannounced patrol stops he makes at the penthouse when he needs bandages to tide him over until he’s home (which always inevitably turns into a full-blown medical exam), in the casual way he traipsed into the kitchen to make his own cocoa a few moments earlier—regardless of what May once thought of Tony Stark, he’s allowed her nephew to take over his space as his own. Has welcomed Peter into his strange, sweet little family without reservation. It isn’t what she had expected of the initial Stark internship or even of the fearsome, one-sided shouting match they’d had when the truth had come out. It’s a level of care she can’t help appreciating. Or repaying, as best she can.

If Tony can invite them into his family, letting him into theirs is the only reasonable thing to do.

“—so this seemed fair. It isn’t anything fancy, I know, but I thought you should have it.”

She’d wrestled with the thought of it for a while—she doesn’t give out spare apartment keys lightly. The Leedses have one, of course, because Ned inhabits Peter’s room almost as much as he does and because Ada Leeds can always be depended upon to water May’s plants when she’s away for continuing education conferences, but there are no others. May prefers to keep that kind of access tight and that circle of trusted friends—of _family_ —close. But—given all the obvious care Tony heaps on Peter—May supposes he’s earned that spot.

“I know you won’t need it for much, but it should make it easier to drop off those textbooks he keeps forgetting. Or to check up on him when I’m not around, and he’s being hedgy about whether or not he’s picked up any new dents and scrapes during his nights out.”

Tony’s nose crinkles in a sniff as he picks up the key, a carefully casual tic to cover the way his eyes soften at the keychain’s lopsided eyes. He skims a thumb over it and a faint smile blooms just long enough for May to marvel at the warmth hiding under all the façades. Just long enough to see that he understands. It vanishes just as quickly as it appears, replaced by the sharper, more mischievous grin that comes as he spins the keyring around an index finger.

“So, you’re giving me the gift of being able to worry about our friendly neighborhood hellion more directly? Very considerate of you.”

“Watch it, or it’ll be a plate of my walnut date loaf next year.” She points at him for emphasis, but the smile tugging at her lips softens her ire and she knows it. Tony regards for half a second before he throws his head back in a soft cackle that May doubts would come out if he wasn’t surrounded by family. Because, planned or not, that’s what they’ve all become through the shared worrying for that friendly neighborhood terror. And while it’s not an arrangement May would have ever anticipated, she’s grateful.

Not being alone through the process of raising a teenager— _any_ teenager, let alone one burdened with superpowers—is the best gift she’s gotten in a very long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to drop a comment with any thoughts you have or stop by and say hello on [Tumblr](https://friendlyneighborhoodsecretary.tumblr.com/)!


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